


Puppy Dog Eyes

by ROSSELLA1



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Semi-Crack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-14 13:47:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11784423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ROSSELLA1/pseuds/ROSSELLA1
Summary: Gellert Grindelwald has a problem.





	1. Puppy Dog Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I do not own Fantastic Beasts, Harry Potter, etc. I’ve seen so many fics where Graves is tortured, but he’s too adorable to hurt, so I needed something fluffy.

Gellert Grindelwald a problem. Quite a large problem, in fact. He had Percival Graves prisoner. The man was locked in a chest enchanted so that its inhabitant had what, to him, seemed like a 100 sq ft room. The cell was warded against any magic the man might have been able to perform against Grindelwald when he came to visit. The director was quite helpless. And yet...Grindelwald couldn’t bring himself to hurt the man. 

Oh, Grindelwald had done what was necessary to capture the other wizard. And during the course of the half hour duel each had wounded the other. It had been the most difficult duel Grindelwald had fought in a long time, and Grindelwald couldn’t help but admire Percival for that. Afterwards, when Grindelwald had finally knocked Graves out, Gellert had tried to draw memories from the auror’s head, guessing that the director would never willingly give them up, only to be met with an almost impenetrable wall. And Grindelwald’s admiration had only grown. Very few occlumens could maintain mental blocks while unconscious. Of course, Gellert _could_ have pushed past the wall with enough time and effort. It would have been difficult, but he could have done it. However, doing so would have most likely completely destroyed Graves’s mind in the process and Grindelwald couldn’t have that. What if he needed more information? So, Grindelwald had decided to wait. He’d question Graves and, in the meantime, brew a potion that would relax Percival’s guard. It would take longer than planned, but Grindelwald knew enough about the man to fool all but those closest to Graves. 

Grindelwald hadn’t been planning to torture the other wizard anyway. Well, of course he would have hurt the man if necessary. But beyond that...well, Grindelwald wasn’t so sadistic as to torture his prisoner for the fun of it. That is, he enjoyed torturing his enemies as much as the next dark wizard, but he usually only tortured those who annoyed him and Graves was rather interesting. The respect Gellert felt for the man wouldn’t have protected him from the usual discourtesies paid to prisoners, though. 

However, Graves had been saved and Grindelwald’s plans were somewhat thwarted by one thing. Or two, rather: Percival Graves’ eyes. The man had deep, soulful eyes that made it extremely difficult to hurt him. 

Gellert had first realized this about a week into the other wizard’s captivity. He had talked to the man everyday, trying to learn whatever he could. Just making friendly conversation and asking about the director’s hobbies and favorite foods. But Graves wasn’t the type of man to be involved with small talk. His reactions to Grindelwald’s attempts at befriending him ranged from physically attacking Gellert to sitting as far from his captor as possible, occasionally biting out useless threats or one word answers. It had occurred to Grindelwald that watching Graves when Graves had no idea he was there would aid him in picking up on the way the man moved and any little tics he might have. So Gellert had watched him through a scrying mirror. 

Percival had been walking around his cell, clearly searching for weaknesses. He performed a thorough examination of it, before collapsing on the cot provided for him and staring at the ceiling. The look that came over his eyes was...well, heartbreaking. It was filled with despair, as if Graves had little hope he’d ever see the light of day again. Whenever Grindelwald had visited him, Graves had always looked furious and strong. This show of weakness threw Gellert off-guard. It shouldn’t have. Graves wasn’t his first prisoner and Grindelwald had seen the same look in many of his other prisoners and felt joy. But for some reason...maybe because it was on a man he respected...Grindelwald was filled with pity when he looked into Graves’s eyes. Oh, well. It couldn’t be helped. Grindelwald pushed the feelings aside by replacing Graves’ cot with an actual bed and the chamber pot with a bathroom. 

Then the potion had been ready and Grindelwald had slipped it in with Graves’ food. It put Graves in a relaxed state, one where he wasn’t quite asleep, but could barely move a muscle, let alone resist Grindelwald peering into his mind. The walls had still been there, but whispering endearments into Graves’ ear and gently coaxing him to let him in had been all it took to lower them. Not wanting to repeat the process unless absolutely necessary, Grindelwald had extracted the memories and placed them in a pensieve. He had been about to view them when Graves had spoke to him. 

“I...I should be...afraid of you.” Graves had said slowly, his face devoid of any emotion. 

Grindelwald had glanced up at him, startled. Most people were unable to while under the effects of the potion. “You should.” Was all he had been able to think of in terms of a reply. 

“I don’t...I don’t feel afraid.” Graves had paused. “I… feel...strange.” 

“It’s the potion.” There had been no reason Grindelwald shouldn’t tell him. Until then he hadn’t mentioned why Graves was being held captive, thinking it would be easier to get information if the man wasn’t aware why Grindelwald wanted to know about him. But since he had the memories…”I needed to get you to relax.” 

“Why?” Graves hadn’t sounded disturbed. More like Grindelwald had borrowed the director’s pen than rummaged through his brain without permission. The potion was clearly slowing down his thought process, making him less suspicious and less cautious.  
“So I could get your memories.” Grindelwald had gestured to the pensieve. “You’re an excellent occlumens and I didn’t want to destroy your mind in the process. This way-” 

With that, though, the auror had frowned. “Those...those are mine…” 

“Yes. I-” 

“Why...why...did you...take them?” 

So Grindelwald had explained how he was going to take Graves’s place. Search for the Obscurus. Get any and all information that would benefit him. And maybe even overthrow MACUSA while he was at it. Despite Percival’s altered state of mind, Grindelwald had really expected him to fly into a rage. Not that Percival could have attacked him in that state, but he expected death threats or a good “You won’t get away with this!” at the very least. 

Instead, Graves’s eyes had filled with tears and the expression on his face was equal parts sorrowful and fearful. “Why...why...I don’t...why are you doing this to me?”  
He had looked at Grindelwald like a puppy that had been punished for something but had no idea what. 

And Gellert...well, Gellert just wasn’t used to feeling sympathy for others. Not that he didn’t feel it in a general sense for wizards and witches who were oppressed, or vaguely when his followers were hurt. But that type of sympathy could easily be pushed aside. This though...Grindelwald hadn’t felt sympathy like this for anyone but himself and Albus. It had been the type that made him want to do something to ease the other’s pain. But Gellert had little practice in dealing with it. So naturally he’d sent Percival into an enchanted sleep so the other would stop looking at him like that. Still, it had been a full day before Gellert could force himself to actually view the memories and when he did he had felt guilty about it. 

After the potion had worn off, Percival had gone back to fighting Gellert at every turn, fury renewed at what he’d found out. He had tried to escape multiple times, even managing to weaken the wards of the case he was in. The dark wizard hadn’t been able to bring himself to punish the auror, for that, though. After all, it’s what Gellert would have done if their places were exchanged. And every time Grindelwald thought about hurting the man, he thought of the look Percival would have in those expressive eyes of his and Grindelwald opted for the less painful solution. 

But Graves had forced Grindelwald’s hand. After Percival had weakened the wards, Grindelwald had taken extra precautions. He’d strengthened the wards on the chest and added some to the Graves mansion.In addition he’d charmed a pen he kept in his pocket to vibrate if the wards were damaged in anyway, and on instances where Grindelwald knew he would be unable to stop home for over 24 hours, he’d had a follower of his stand guard. It had worked. For a while. 

Then, a few months into Graves’ captivity, things had changed. Grindelwald had been in a meeting five states away when the pen had started vibrating in his pocket. He couldn’t disapparate on the spot, so he had to wait the twenty minutes until the meeting was over. Grindelwald hadn’t been too worried. After all, he’d had a man named Kevern watching Graves while he was away. But the moment the meeting ended, Grindelwald had gone straight back to the mansion. Kevern had, for whatever reason, gone inside the chest and had been lying dead on the floor of the cell. Graves hadn’t gotten out of the mansion, but he’d gotten a hold of Kevern’s wand and was making serious headway against the wards that kept him from leaving or communicating with anyone else. 

It had taken Gellert a quarter of an hour to find the man and another 30 minutes to defeat the other wizard, captivity having only made Percival more desperate. That time, Grindelwald hadn’t held back. He had been filled with fury. Mostly at Kevern for failing him. And at himself for underestimating Graves. If the meeting had been just a bit longer, Graves would have escaped and Grindelwald would have had to start all over with a new official. Grindelwald had tortured Graves, then, inflicting him with the Cruciatus curse among others, until the rage had died down Percival lay sobbing on the floor. Feeling that Graves had learned his lesson, Grindelwald had locked him up in the chest, recast the wards, and left him with only bread and water for food for the remainder of Grindelwald’s business trip. 

When Grindelwald had returned three days later, the pen having been still the entire time, he had gone straight to the chest, planning to lecture his captive on the escape attempt. Only Graves was in no state for a lecture. He was curled in a ball on the bed. The food and water untouched. And the wounds from Graves’ punishment hadn’t healed...because, Grindelwald had realized belatedly, the wards would have interfered with Graves’ body’s natural magical healing process. 

Grindelwald had rushed over, pulling Graves into his lap so that Gellert could heal the wounds. It had been easy to see that they were infected. And it wasn’t just Graves’ eyes that had caused Grindelwald’s heart to drop. It was the man’s whole face. Usually quite handsome, it had been contorted in pain. The injured wizard had had a fever and may or may not have been fully conscious, but somehow his eyes had found Grindelwald’s and the man had shrunk back with a whimper. It was clear he expected more torture, which only made Gellert feel worse. Grindelwald had cast a calming charm on the man and had set to work with diagnostic spells and healing charms. An hour later, Graves’ had lain sleeping in the bed, healed of all wounds but still suffering the effects of malnutrition and infection. 

That had been a few days ago. Now, Grindelwald sat in Graves’ office, looking through a scrying mirror at the man he was impersonating. The real Director of Magical Security was recovering slowly but surely, being given the best of care. Gellert couldn’t stay with him all the time; the real Graves would have worked through dragon pox if he had to, so Grindelwald couldn’t take off unless absolutely necessary. Instead, Gellert had had his lieutenant, a man named Nott stay with the prisoner. There was little chance Graves would be able to overcome _him._ Nott was one of Grindelwald’s most powerful allies, and had a bloodthirstiness about him that sometimes made even Gellert squeamish. But he wouldn’t hurt Graves unless necessary and Graves was still too weak for any escape attempt. 

What bemused Grindelwald was that Nott sat in a chair next to the bed, watching Graves as he was charged with, only Graves was reading a book. Grindelwald hadn’t provided Percival with any entertainment, so it had to have come from Nott. 

Well, it was lunchtime, perhaps a quick trip...Grindelwald disapparated, appearing moments later in the chest. Graves shrunk back against the wall while Nott jumped up. 

“You’re upsetting him.” Nott whispered in what could be considered an insubordinate tone. Grindelwald raised a brow. Rolling his eyes, Nott gestured upwards, and the two disapparated, reappearing in the room the chest was in. “I’m sorry, Gellert. Did you need anything?” 

That was better. “Not particularly.” Grindelwald replied in a casual tone. “I only wondered why you saw it necessary to provide Mr. Graves with a book.” 

Nott had looked flustered. “Well...it’s just...he seemed bored...and I didn’t think it would hurt...and...and” 

“And?”  
Nott sighed, looking at his feet. “Well, he’s kind of...adorable isn’t he? And he’s got these eyes…” 

And that, Grindelwald realized, was the problem. Percival Graves was simply too adorable to hurt or be allowed to be unhappy, and when one _did_ hurt him or make him feel bad, it made one feel like the scum of the Earth. Sooner or later he’d have to think of a solution. 


	2. A Bad Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own the fandom or the characters...

Percival Graves was having a very bad year. Well, more like a year and a half. First, he’d been held prisoner for 10 months by Gellert Grindelwald. The man had locked him in a trunk and kept him in Graves’ own mansion. He had been tortured (not as much as Graves had expected, but still) and had his mind rifled through and his deepest secrets exposed to the most evil wizard the world had ever known. When Percival had finally been rescued, he had found out that some of his closest friends had just happened to be killed in the line of duty, many good aurors had been fired, and the other ministry employees hadn’t noticed that Percival Graves had been replaced by a xenophobic mad man with a penchant for wearing too much hair gel and the Deathly Hallows symbol. 

MACUSA had been very understanding and paid for his therapy and a tree month vacation to a safe house in Florida while aurors from several different countries swept the Graves mansion for evidence and dark curses. While on the vacation, Graves had suffered numerous panic attacks and the safe house had somehow gotten runespoors in its basement. 

When he had returned to work, Graves found that most of his colleagues were kind and concerned, but that the criminal community had taken his kidnapping as a sign of weakness. A large amount of them had convinced themselves that Graves had spent the 10 months as Grindelwald’s concubine (which he hadn’t, not that anyone believed that). Graves had quickly disabused them of the weakness part by waging war on the crime that had been allowed to fester in his absence. That didn’t stop all of the criminals from referring to him as ‘Grindelwald’s bitch’ but they no longer called him that to his face. 

Still, the fact that Grindelwald had allowed so many criminals to go unpunished mean that Percival’s team had to work twice as hard as usual. Whole gangs had been allowed to form, most of which were Grindelwald sympathizers. His team had lost two members to one of these gangs earlier in the month and Graves doubted that there was a single auror that hadn’t spent the better part of the month in and out of the hospital. Added to this was the fact that every newspaper seemed to make it its mission to document Graves’ career and few articles didn’t mention his captivity in some way. Not that any of the reputable ones seemed to blame him, but seeing his own bruised and cut face staring back at him from the front page of every newspaper wasn’t helping Graves’ stress level. And just to top it off, now Graves was on his knees in the middle of a dirty warehouse. 

A raid had gone wrong. The gang had been ready for them, and now there was a wizard standing over each member of his team. MACUSA would undoubtedly send back up, but not until it realized something was wrong, which wouldn’t be for at least an hour. Given that the gang hadn’t run instead of staying to fight, there was an excellent chance they were all going to die. 

“You don’t want to do this.” Graves told the leader, a man named Dolarhyde, who had taken to personally guarding Graves. 

“Oh, and why’s that?” 

“Killing a team of aurors might earn you bragging rights, but MACUSA will rain hell down on you and everyone connected with you.” 

“They’ll arrest us if they can tie us to the crimes.” Dolarhyde replied airily. “But we don’t plan on leaving any evidence.”   
“They’ll have all the evidence they need. Why do you think we got permission to raid the warehouse? Because we can tie-” He was backhanded across the face. 

“You don’t know anything!” Dolarhyde snapped, but Graves could see the other members of the gang were starting to look less-confident. 

“I don’t know…” The man guarding Tina said. “Maybe we should just let them-” 

“You’ll do what I-” 

But that was all Graves needed. As Dolarhyde turned to face the other man, Graves leapt forward and tackled the leader. The other gang members turned their wands on him, which gave the aurors the distraction they needed to incapacitate their guards. Silently, Graves summoned his wand and stunned the man before tying him up. Percival sent off a message to Picquery, letting her know they needed backup. Everywhere he could see that a group of gang members stood without members of his team in the midst, Graves open fired a volley of stunning spells and hexes. It still took quite a while, but eventually the investigative team managed to overcome the gang. 

Every member of his team had to spend the night in the hospital (some multiple nights). They’d been outnumbered, after all. Still, none of them were amateur duelists. It was still two days before Graves could go back to work, and even then he went back with a limp. He was satisfied, though, that not a single member of the gang would ever see the outside of a prison cell again. They’d attempted to kill a whole team of auror’s after all, and many of them had tortured and murdered muggles _and_ wizards. 

Graves was pleased in a bittersweet kind of way. That was until he walked into his office to find Dolarhyde’s dismembered corpse lying on his floor with a note around his neck that said, “For you,dearest.” 

It didn’t take him long to find out that Grindelwald had broken out of prison. Not a single member of the gang was left alive. Not a single guard either, but that Percival could understand. It had always been a case of when Grindelwald would break out, not if. They were just lucky he hadn’t set every single prisoner free, just the followers who had been imprisoned with him. The only clue as to why Grindelwald had slaughtered a whole gang of his sympathizers was a copy of a newspaper found in Grindelwald’s cell. The main story detailed the raid and how the investigative team had been hospitalized. Given the placement of the corpse and the note, Graves thought the newspaper had to be significant, but why Grindelwald would care that Graves had been hurt was just as much a mystery as how Grindelwald had managed to transport a corpse from the prison to Graves’ office without being seen. Maybe hurting Percival was a privilege only Grindelwald could claim? Graves didn’t know, but he just wanted his life to go back to the way it was before the name Grindelwald meant anything more than a village in Switzerland. 


	3. The Woes of Gellert Grindelwald

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I do not own Fantastic Beasts, Harry Potter, etc.

Gellert Grindelwald was at a loss. He was several countries away from Percival Graves and yet the man was still interrupting his life. And this was a significant problem. One couldn’t try to take over the world if one was worried about the safety of one of the few people who posed a threat. The situation was becoming impossible. The thing was, Percival Graves seemed to lack a sense of self preservation, and MACUSA seemed to lack the ability to protect one of its most powerful aurors. 

When Grindelwald had been arrested and Graves rescued, the dark wizard had been slightly relieved. By the time his deception was discovered almost all of his followers seemed to view Graves as something of a pet. This had caused quite a few security risks, as it had become easy for Graves to manipulate his guards. Only Grindelwald’s strongest followers could be trusted to guard the auror, and even most of them were fond of Graves. Maintaining adequate security was becoming something of a nuisance. Being arrested eliminated that worry. Besides, it wasn’t too difficult to escape from a prison he had had ample time to study while impersonating the Director of Magical Security. Grindelwald had been content to get Graves out of his life. And then, of course Graves had returned to the field and suddenly the papers were filled with tales of the investigative team’s exploits. Despite a few bumps and scrapes, Graves had seemed to be doing fine, and really, weren’t injuries in an auror’s job description? Gellert had followed Graves’ activities with a certain amount of pride. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known the man had potential. Then had come the story of the raid gone wrong, where Graves and his team had nearly died. This had been a bit more worrisome, but not unexpected. And wasn’t it to the auror’s credit that he’d been able to turn a situation around so quickly and while outnumbered? Still, Gellert couldn’t let the attack on someone he had clearly marked as _his_ adversary go unpunished. So when the gang had been brought in, bragging to other prisoners about how they’d had the Director of Magical Security on his knees, Gellert had killed them all, leaving the leader’s corpse as a present to Graves. 

Afterwards, Grindelwald had fled the country, feeling it best that he put as much distance as possible between him and this new threat. That had worked. For a while. He had more than enough to do in countries other than the United States. Of course he kept abreast of news in the states (as he did with news of all countries), but from abroad news of Graves was just a handful of stories among many others. For months, the only mentions of Graves had been in articles detailing social events he attended or the ordinary crimes he solved. Occasionally, the director was injured but, again, that was to be expected. Grindelwald had begun to think that Graves would pass out of his life. Perhaps after Grindelwald had control over America he’d contact the man. Not that Graves would ever join him, but the director would be too dangerous to be allowed to remain at large. He’d keep the man as an unwilling guest, perhaps. In a much better place than the old chest. And maybe, given time, they could develop some type of friendship. 

What disturbed this brief calm wasn’t in the papers. One of his moles at M.A.C.U.S.A sent him an owl letting him know that the Graves mansion had caught fire in the middle of the night. Luckily, the auror had been at work at the time. Flame retardant spells on the mansion had prevented too much damage and had alerted Graves. The fire had been put out and the damage repaired. 

It was worrisome, but not uncommon. Grindelwald could have dismissed it. Then the man Grindelwald had tailing Graves had reported more small incidents. A car had almost struck the auror one day. Another day a gargoyle had become dislodged from the roof and crashed only inches from where Graves stood. Soon enough, the incidents grew stranger. An ogre had somehow ended up in a council room where Graves, the President, and multiple other M.A.C.U.S.A employees were holding a meeting. The lift’s cable had broken, sending it, Graves, and the house elf working it plummeting downwards, where it would have come to a crushing landing over a hundred floors down if Graves hadn’t had the presence of mind to cast a hover charm, grab the house elf, and disapparate to safety. These incidents made Grindelwald uneasy enough to request daily updates of the going-ons in M.A.C.U.S.A. 

It was the dinner party, though, that had Grindelwald in the state he was in (which was pacing the floor of his hotel room in France). Word had been in every wizarding paper in the world. M.A.C.U.S.A had held its annual dinner party for its employees, their families, and foreign ambassadors. Somehow, 30 masked assailants had made their way past all of the Woolworth building’s security and attacked the guests. Multiple high-ranking officials had been targeted, but the only one Grindelwald cared about was Graves. The man had immediately been attacked by no less than three wizards, whom he had dispatched. However, as soon as one fell, another had left whichever duel he had been engaged in to join the others in attacking Graves. All assailants had been killed or captured, but Graves was among the guests who were currently in the hospital. He had been unconscious for two days. What was worse, there was no sign that action had been taken on the obvious attempts on Graves life. 

From his sources, Grindelwald knew that Graves had all his limbs, was expected to live, and would most likely have no lasting damage. Percival was the Director of Magical Security. Surely he would realize the pattern of near misses and take action. So Grindelwald should have been content. Yes, the man was one of the strongest wizards Grindelwald had faced and utterly worthy of Grindelwald’s respect. Yes, he had deep dark eyes that were as expressive as a puppy dog’s. Yes, it was perfectly reasonable for Gellert to be fond of the man. But this went beyond his normal level of care. Gellert wasn’t a complete monster. He cared for Albus. He cared for his followers. He had even cared for Credence. But, when push came to shove, helping the wizarding world throw off its chains was far more important than any one person. The mission waited for no man. Except Grindelwald. And, apparently, for some inexplicable reason, Percival Graves. 

The attraction wasn’t a romantic or even a sexual attraction; that would have been easy to deal with. Grindelwald would have wooed the man, fucked him, and either moved on or kept Graves at his side. No, it wasn’t that. It was...Grindelwald didn’t know. It was like with Albus, but different. The man wasn’t like a friend to him, or a brother. He was almost like an equal, but that wouldn’t explain everything. Gellert couldn’t explain it. He simply couldn’t bear to hear of the man hurt. Well, Grindelwald thought with a muttered curse, there was nothing else to do. If he couldn’t ignore his concern for Percival Graves, he’d need to take action to protect the man. Packing his bags with a flick of the wand, Grindelwald jotted off a note to Nott, explaining the situation, and checked out of his hotel. He was returning to America. 

….. 

Grindelwald went straight to the hospital. He transfigured himself into a rather bland looking man and transfigured his clothes into a nurse’s uniform. He gleaned Graves’ room number from the minds of the actual doctors and nurses and made his way there. It was pleasing to see two auror’s outside Graves’s room, but less so when they let him pass without question. Seraphina Picquery was seated next to the auror’s bed, looking worn down. That didn’t surprise Gellert; in his time as Graves it had become obvious that the president and the Director of Magical Security shared a close friendship. She didn’t glance up when he walked in, focused on her second-in-command’s condition and probably used to nurses coming and going. 

When Grindelwald took out his wand, though, and cast a muffling charm and and a shield on the door...that got her attention. Before she could even speak, Grindelwald had bound her to the chair, summoned her wand, and restricted her use of wandless magic. This would go so much much easier without a duel. 

“We have a problem, Madame President.” 

“Grindelwald.” She sneered. 

“Picquery.” Gellert answered. “Now that reintroductions have been covered, let’s move on.”   
“The aurors outside-” 

“Can’t hear us and are unable to enter. But don’t worry, I didn’t come here to harm you.” 

Her eyes darted to Graves. “If you try to-” 

“Or Percival. Quite the opposite.” Grindelwald looked at the unconscious Graves. His breathing was slightly strained, but his wounds had been healed. There was a pale scar along his jawline. Grindelwald reached out to run his finger over it. 

“Don’t. Touch. Him.” Picquery’s voice would have been hard enough to make most of her employees immediately stop and apologize. 

Grindelwald merely glanced up at her and continued. The healers were skilled, but tended to stick to conventional spells; ones that had been put through years of testing. Grindelwald had found that, as long as he maintained focus, though, he didn’t need verbal spells to heal. Willing the scar to heal worked just as well, if not better. Sure enough, when he took his finger away, the scar was gone. 

“I came here to make sure you are aware that someone is trying to kill your dear director. Oh, not me.” Grindelwald sighed, as her face hardened. “But, I’d rather hoped that this wouldn’t come as a surprise to you. After all, my sources tell me that Graves has almost been killed no less than ten times in the past three months, and that’s not counting the near-misses that occur every day on the job.” 

“Tonight was a tragedy. But there’s hardly reason to-” 

“He was attacked more vigorously than all the others at the dinner, was he not?” 

“Yes. However-” 

“And there was the elevator incident, the car, the gargoyle, the ogre, shellfish somehow got in his chicken, and…” It was clear from her face that she either hadn’t heard of all the incidents or was only just putting the pieces together. Grindelwald stopped listing them after a few more. “Honestly? I’m the only one who thought these were suspicious?” He’d have to arrange for some of his spies to take the place of the guards outside. 

“Director Graves is a highly private person; it’s not the least bit unusual that he kept some of these to himself. If he had his suspicions he didn’t mention them to me. What I _do_ find suspicious is your concern about Director Graves.” 

“Why shouldn’t I care for him? He’s a powerful wizard and I admire him.” Gellert wasn’t going to share his unexplained preoccupation with Graves. “If wizards don’t look out for one another-” 

“Spare me what I’m sure would be a well-prepared speech.” Picquery interrupted. “You can preach about only wanting to ‘free’ wizards, but you’re a terrorist.” 

Grindelwald rolled his eyes. “Now isn’t the time to talk about differences in political ideologies. Your director is in trouble and-” 

“And I will take the appropriate measures to protect him, but your presence isn’t making him any safer.” 

“I told you, I’m not here to hurt him.” 

“You held him prisoner and tortured him-” 

“Once.” 

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you’re here out of the goodness of your heart.” 

Grindelwald shook his head. “You don’t need to believe me.” He reached out and pushed a strand of hair out of Graves’ eyes, smirking when Picquery tensed. “You just need to keep him safe.” 

“I will. Now leave.” 

“As you wish.” Grindelwald gave a bow. “But if I find that you give this matter anything less than your full attention, I’ll be back. And it won’t be a very pleasant visit.” He disapparated, lifting the protection from the door as he did so, and releasing the president from her bonds. 

Now that Picquery knew of the risk, Grindelwald had no doubt she’d look into the matter. He’d keep an eye on things, but hopefully he’d be able to return to France within the week, and then he could forget about Graves for a while. 


End file.
